Sunday, September 30, 2007

THE INCREDIBLY SHRINKING BLADDER

A momentous occasion occurred yesterday ... so much so, it must be blogged about ... it just must.

I traveled for more than four hours ... in a car ... by myself ... without getting out to use the restroom.

Why is this important?

Whatever could be so monumental about this event that one should find the need to blog about it?

In a public venue?

It's a bodily function, for heaven's sake!

It's important, because most days, I can't manage to travel from my house to Walmart (which is across town) without having to go to the bathroom, let alone four hours!

I can stretch a four hour drive into eight hours stopping at every blade of grass or bush along the highway. It's as if my bladder detects a lengthy car ride, and it decides to screw itself into the tiniest ball of muscleknown to science, just for the occasion, and then spasm maniacally at every bump in the road.

The trip to Michigan, and the reason for which I found myself in my truck yesterday, is approximately a 6 hour drive. I've never made it even close to six hours ... it's always closer to seven ... sometimes, even seven and a half. I could never figure out why ...

The key, it would seem, is to wear form fitting denim Capri pants. This, apparently, restricts any bladder growth ... that is until you finally do exit your vehicle to fuel up. Then becomes imperative to find a restroom!

Yes, it is a gold star moment. Something that may never be accomplished again.

I will revel, no, I will bask in the glow of a six and a half hour journey with only ONE potty break!

Friday, September 28, 2007

WHAT'S THAT SMELL?

Nothing like the scnets of skunk and sour mash in the morning! Really gets the stomach churning ...

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

TAKE A RIGHT TURN AT THE HYPOTHALMUS

My brain is a complex thing.

I don't say that haughtily.

On the contrary, that statement is made in part because I am amazed (and not in the good way) at how this jelly-like substance inside my skull attempts to solve problems.

Attempts is the key word here, folks.

You see, rather than the normal shape for a human brain, mine is more or less like the small intestine ... 18 feet of convoluted twists and turns that require a few good years to cogitate and cognate upon any given, weighty subject.

This conclusion was drawn today, immediately following my penitence in D-hall.

I have been teaching for five or six years ... it's all a blur really, but it's been long enough, as my mother would say. For all five or six of those years, I've been bugged by the fact that the way of doing lesson plans just doesn't jive with the way I organize my thoughts or my life. It doesn't make any sense.

Every year, I start out with the best of intentions, and usually, by March, I've written my lesson plans in every conceivable fashion and notion, and they still are not the least bit usable to me! Amazing ... and not in the good way! I find myself asking, "Why the heck do I bother writing it all down?"

Today ... at 4:12 p.m., it occurred to me how writing my lessons plans should be! It was an almost religious epiphany ... I could literally feel the burden lifting from my shoulders, and I couldn't wait to get home to start planning my second and third quarters.

Then I realized, at approximately 4:12:56 p.m. this wasn't an original thought. The way the lesson plan book had been set up? Yeah, well... yeah, um, it was pretty much set up the way I decided, at 4:12 p.m., that I would hereto and forever more be designing my lessons.

Ummm ... is six years a bit too long to realize that about my lesson plan books?

Somewhere in Michigan, my mother's head has just involuntarily banged against her keyboard as she realizes the amount of money she and my father spent on privately educating the small intestine in my head.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

PLEASE PASS THE ASPIRIN

So, we have three days until our three-week fall break, and EVERY SINGLE one of those children are counting down the hours and minutes, I can tell you that.

They are giddy with anticipation ... three weeks without me in their faces reminding them of subjects and predicates and comparisons and contrasts and the path light travels when it enters our eyes. So giddy they are, that they have been acting like they've never, ever met a rule in their lives.

Oh yeah! Good times!

And because I seem to be overly blessed this season, I get to sit with our most giddy tomorrow at D-Hall (that would be detention, ladies and gentlemen). That is one hour that will somehow stretch itself into an eternity where, at the final seconds of said eternity, I will be begging for someone to impale me on a newly sharpened pencil just to put myself out of my misery.

Oh ... has any one noticed? It's a full moon!

Yeah ... it's going to be a great day tomorrow ... I can tell ...

Friday, September 21, 2007

IF YOU HAD BEEN A FLY ON MY CLASSROOM WALL

If you had been a fly on my classroom wall, you would have heard me give the following RULES FOR A FIELD TRIP in my own fourth grade language:

"Ladies and gentlemen. We are going downtown to the Kentucky Folklife Festival, and there is going to be a WHOOOOOLLLLLLEEEE WAD [insert the kids' giggles here ... for whatever reason, they always giggle when I say wad] of people down there. It is super-duper important that you stay with your group. That means, ladies and gentlemen, that even if ... are you listening to this? Even if a pink elephant with purple polka dots marches by, and it looks like it might be cool to see, you need to stay with the group!"

"Yes ma'am," was their response.

"Okay. Also, we are trying to be responsible fourth graders today. That means, if you plan to schlep some what-not-and-so-forth down to the festival, you are responsible for that what-not-and-so-forth. Miss Murray doesn't schlep what-not-and-so-forth. Ms. C isn't going to schlep your what-not-and-so-forth. Ms. R and Ms. M aren't going to schlep what-not-and-so-forth either."

"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.

"Also, we aren't going down there to fiddly-dink. We need to remember our manners and show the presenters and vendors down there that our school is AWESOME [I always sing that word awesome in an operatic voice]. "

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, let's review the pink elephant rule. If Mrs. C. is going one way and a pink elephant with purple polka dots is going another way, who do you follow?"

"MRS. C!"

"Very good!"

"If J's mom is going one way, and a pink elephant with purple polka dots is going the other way, which one are you going to follow?"

"J's mom!"

"And, ladies and gentlemen, what are we not down there to do?"

"We aren't down there to fiddly-dink!"

"Excellent. What do we do with our what-not-and-so-forth?"

"We are going to carry our what-not-and-so-forth!"

A hand goes up at this point.

"Yes, Z."

"What if one of us falls off the Singing Bridge and into the river?"

"Do you think we will be walking on the Singing Bridge in a manner that would make us fall off and into the river?"

"Nope."

"Okay then."



You gotta love a field trip ...

Thursday, September 20, 2007

BURIED UNDER A MOUNTAIN OF PAPERWORK

It seems I will NEVER be able to leave this room with out my desk looking like a huricane (or a couple of them) has blown through. I don't understand it. I can organize lots of stuff, but paper is my downfall!!! I become incapable of making a decision when it comes to paper.

What is wrong with me?

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

OOPS

This is what happens when I rant and rave without sufficient sleep ...

The rant and rave of last night ... that was in response to some newspaper clippings I'd read on top of just plain having to deal with people in general as of late. To use a bit of Instant Message vernacular, LOL! This is what happens one doesn't fully explain one's rant and rave ...

UH-OH

You know it's going to be an interesting day when you drive by the fire station, see a ResciAnnie [unsure of correct spelling here] propped up against the fire house doors, and you think to yourself: "HEY! What's the naked girl doing sitting there!!??"

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

IN THE MARKET FOR AN ISOLATED ISLAND

There are days I just want everybody to shut up. Really. Take a deep, cleansing breath and then just shut up. It's that simple.

Our world is in upheaval ... war ... famine ... pestilence ...

Pollution is causing little ole' Earth to heat up and dry up ... like the crusty old raisin I found under my driver's seat the other day.

... and yet ... AND YET ... there are those among us that allow their wadded panties to chafe because someone dared to use an adjective they didn't like to describe incidental little blips on the radar of humanity?

As if!

Sometimes this world makes me weary ...

... and we wonder why we can't solve world peace ...

I'm sorry. Does it sound like I need a vacation from all this lovely humanity? Why yes I do!

How much does it cost to buy one's own island?

THE BEST FOURTH GRADE QUOTE OF THE DAY

"I think my underwear are on backwards. What do I do?"

It took everything within me NOT to reply to this one!

Sunday, September 16, 2007

THE UNWRITTEN RULES ABOUT EATING IN YOUR MID-THIRTIES

There are some unwritten rules when you hit your mid-30s, and one of them has to do with food and the consumption of said food. I know this because I broke it yesterday ... BIG TIME!

You see, ladies and gentlemen, apparently, you shouldn't eat fair food in any sort of quantity whatsoever unless you are bucking for a massive case of heartburn. Furthermore, you really shouldn't even try to inhale the fumes from a GIANT vat of grease where fries and onion rings find their culinary end.

No, no. You see, when you inhale those greasy fumes, you are further destroying the already thin lining of your mid-30s stomach (having thinned it out in your teens and 20s when you misguidedly thought you were indestructible).

I think the nausea I've had today from the Philly Cheese Steak sandwich and yellow sugar water they passed off as lemonade might just rival the hang-over experienced by one of the many, many college co-eds obtained when viewing the overly-anticipated, overly-hyped UK vs. U of L football game yesterday.

There aren't enough Tums in the world, people ...

Thursday, September 13, 2007

YEP! THAT EXPLAINS A LOT!

The following is a recent response from one of my student's to a question I posed. The question was WHAT IS SOUND?

"Sound is stuff you hear. It goes in one ear and out the other."

I suppose her answer to my question explains why she doesn't always get the concepts I present in class.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

APOCALYPTIC

................. Apocalyptic .........................

It's an appropriate word when I think back six years ago to a Tuesday that feels much like this Tuesday does.

What was I feeling? What was I thinking? What was going through my mind?

Apocalypse ... that's what I thought.

I remember sitting in the longest line I'd ever seen at any gas station I'd ever been to, and thinking, in stunned silence, "My gosh! Is this the end of the world?"

Absolutely EVERYONE waiting to pump gas that night had their car radios on ... tuned and listening to the same thing ... the collective sounds of, what we thought, was the end of the world.

My chin still quivers ... my heart still gets heavy ... my eyes still water when I allow myself to dwell on that night.

In the aftermath of that horrible day, it was, for me, the end of my innocence.

I stopped believing in security and safety ...

I started living with a larger community-mindedness ... there is a world outside of my very, tiny box.

I began looking at people AS PEOPLE.

My inner-self that looked at the world through rose-colored glasses finally grew up ... whether it was ready or not ...

Life is sort of ugly like that sometimes ... yet, if we choose to use the lessons we've been given, there is a certain beauty that seems to bloom from it all ...

Sunday, September 09, 2007

IT'S TOUGH BEING GREEN

So, I spent $83.20 at the grocery store yesterday, and I ONLY came home with four, small bags ... count them F.O.U.R. But that is a gripe for another blog ...

One of the items that I chose to buy was a package of energy efficient light bulbs. As my old light bulbs die out, I plan to replace every single one of them with these more energy efficient bulbs ... it's my continued effort at being green.

So, you can imagine my absolute disgust and disdain that, when I tried to recycle the actual packaging the bulbs came in, I COULD NOT!

And why, you might be asking yourself?

Because GE has, in their infinite wisdom, created packaging that has ABSOLUTELY NO recycling symbols on the paper or the plastic the bulbs come in. How can a company, committed to being green, not package these bulbs in recyclable materials? This makes no sense to me!

So, I ended up not being as green as I intended.

What's up with that?

Saturday, September 08, 2007

CHECK OUT THOSE BAGS!


No. That's not luggage you are seeing under my eyes. Those are bags ... BIG bags ... due to extreme exhaustion. Fourth grade is exhausting, did you not know this? Or maybe it's the fact that I am at school at 6:30 each morning and don't leave until 5 or 6 at night.
Yep. You guessed it. I am INSANE.

Think I am going downstairs to take a nap ...




HAVEN'T I HAD THIS HAIR CUT BEFORE?

The newest creation by Susan the Miracle Worker



Am I slightly obsessed with my new hair cuts each time I get them? Uuummmm ... yes, probably! It's something to be analyzed by a therapist, I am sure.
At any rate, three or four years ago, I had almost this exact same cut. All good things make a come-back, right? I didn't realize it was going to be as short as she cut it, but it certainly is growing on me. Even if it wasn't, you know, hair grows.

CAUGHT IN THE ACT OF LOAFING


Wednesday, September 05, 2007

BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TO DO ...

... I noticed that my LEFT headlight has now died.

GOOD FREAKIN' GLORY!

Please! Enough already!

Monday, September 03, 2007

NOT A GOOD DAY FOR THE SISTERS

It started out innocently enough. I got up ... made coffee ... enjoyed some time just hanging around before I got ready for church ... enjoying my quiet holiday weekend .... but then I made a wrong move. My wrong move was assuming I would be able to stick my key into the ignition of my truck and it would, indeed, fire to life.

Not yesterday! Yesterday, I stuck my key in the ignition and got ... NOTHING!

My battery was D.O.A.

This was really bad because I was suppose to meet Ann in Versailles to help her move the rest of her stuff out of her townhouse. You see, she bought a new house in Lexington.

I called her ... she was bummed. She was counting on me.

Then, I set about calling everyone I could possibly think of to help me jump my battery ... not an easy task on a holiday weekend.

Ann called back, meantime. She had procured jumper cables, and she was on her way over to help me. The bad news? Neither one of us had EVER used jumper cables in our lives.

How hard could it be, though, right?

Well, apparently really hard, since we had a bear of time just getting the hood up on Ann's Mustang. That should have been our first clue.

The second clue should have been when Ann couldn't figure out how to actually clamp the jumper cable thingy ma bob to the post that my father, who was talking us through the process long distance (did I mention he lives TWO STATES AWAY), was attempting to describe to her.

I ended up, after no less that 10 calls to various friends and co-workers, getting my friends Jodi and Allen to come over.

Simple and easy, right?

Well, after 5 minutes of Ann revving her engine, my truck manage only a sick clicking sound coming from the engine block.

"Hmmm ... that doesn't seem right," was Allen's assessment of the situation.

It was determined a wrecker service would need to be called in to tow me to Sears. Thank God! Sears was opened on Sunday of Labor Day Weekend!

Ann went on about her busy business because, as she put it, she had a "very tight schedule."

While waiting an hour for the new battery to be hooked up, I got a voice mail message from Ann. Allow me a paraphrasing ....

"My townhouse is flooded. I am standing here with standing water in my kitchen, living room, and entry way. AS SOON as you get your new battery, please come down here to Versailles."

So much for Ann's tight schedule.

An hour later, I was standing there in her garage trying to figure out what could have caused the water valve in her former laundry room to give way, spraying water ALL OVER her first floor. It was so bad that she had to run next door, grab her neighbor, and a second neighbor had to be called in to turn off the main shut off at the street!

We're STILL trying to calculate the loss of liquid assets we both incurred on such a warm, sunny afternoon.

All in all, not a good day for the Sisters Murray!